


Plan M

by InvisibleVampire97



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (2003), The Wolf Man (1941), The Wolfman (2010), Van Helsing (2004)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleVampire97/pseuds/InvisibleVampire97
Summary: After Mina’s league disbanded and a new war on the horizon. A new league must be made however, the old league may not approve of this new one.
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue: Plan M

**Author's Note:**

> What a horrible situation for the world to be in, lucky, M has a few tricks up his sleeves.

Prologue: Plan M 

The news between England and Germany spread like wildfire around the world with tensions one may cut with a knife. A world war, plus with the old league out of commission M needed someone new, but familiar. M smiled towards Sanderson Reed.

“Bring me the hunter,” M stated. Sanderson nodded ready to head off to Kenya Colony.


	2. Chapter 1: A war can spread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man arrives to Africa looking for a Quartermain, let’s hope he finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To convince a hunter

-Location: Kenya Colony. Date: June1910-

“Wait here,” A pale man asked the drive, though he already knew that the possibility of it would be unlikely.

The man had finally made it to Africa, now to convince the hunter. Walking into the big building, reminding himself who he need to get……and who he needed to avoid.

Walking up to the footman by the door he said, “Where’s is Quatermain?”

“The gentleman over there,” the footman stated, rightfully, defensive over to a man about his age with brushed blond hair and brown eyes starring, wordlessly terror, at his drink. With brunette hair lady next to him giving a “What now?” glare with her green eyes on him slightly tugging at her red scarf. Three men trying to keep their eyes on a chest board, but stared as well. An Indian man who sat just as tall as a sea captain would on his ship, a man wearing a trench coat and colored glasses, and a pale smaller man with his right ear bandage looking like he might faint.

‘Or worse,’ the man thought before turning back to the footman and continued, “Not him, I meant his son.”

The whole saloon went completely quiet that the man notice two shadowy figures in the corner by the fireplace. One tense, the other paused from the news paper he read.

“Ah. Of course,” the footman restated, still stunned, directing the man over to the shadowy figures, “that gentleman in the back.”

As he walked over everyone’s gaze were fixed on him.

“Do I have the pleasure of addressing Tom Quartermain?” The man asked ignoring the small movements the group he was almost sent to. His gaze fixed on the man with the newspaper.

“Uh, yes, you do, sir.”

Green eyes fell to the older man before him, who just finished getting repositioning-comfortable in his seat. Now slightly blocking the sight of the other man. There was another moment of stunned silence.

The older man continued, “Indeed you do.”

“You’re not…” began the man brushing by the fact that, this must be Nigel, “what I expected.”

“Come! Fill a seat, you can fill my glass. Bruce, double!

The man smiles as he started, “My name is Quincey Harker. I’m a representative of Her Majesty’s British Government.”

There was a sound from the other group’s table as if someone got up from their chair quickly. Nigel quickly took a drink as if he expected a fight.

Quincey finished with, “The empire needs you.”

“But the question is, do I need the empire?”

Both men turned a man, slightly older than Quincey, with messed up blond hair, a tan lightly covered his skin. He wore a white shirt, a tan vest, tan pants, and boots. Nigel quickly left not wanting to sit there a moment longer.

Tom stated, “I am Quartermain.”

Quincey stated, “The empire is in peril.”

“You’re probably too young to know,” Tom sighed as if he was older than he looks, “but the empire always in some kind of peril.”

Tom turned towards the fireplace only to have Quincey, now, in front of him recounted, “We need you to lead a team of unique men like yourself to combat this threat.”

Tom sigh again and silently wonder why fate wanted it this way. He put his newspaper down and with motion to sit again he said, “Regale me.”

Quincey quickly sat down across from him and stated, “There is great unrest. Countries set at each other’s throats, baying for blood. It’s a powder keg. The trouble of which I speak could set a match to the whole thing. War.”

Tom’s gaze of slight concern turned to confusion.

“With whom exactly?”

“Everyone.” Quincey answered, “A world war.”

Tom leaned forward a little asking again, “That notion makes you sweat?”

“Heavens, man.” Quincey softly gasped. “Doesn’t it you?”

“This is Africa, dear boy.” Tom stated halfheartedly as he gestured around the saloon. “Sweating is what we do.”

Tom grabbed his newspaper and tried to read again.

Quincey, having enough of this, snapped, “Where is your of patriotism?!”

Tom, slamming his paper down and grabbing something, stood up so quickly Quincey wonder if he was about to be punched.

Tom turned towards the rest of the saloon and stated, “God save the queen!!”

“God save the queen.”  
“God bless her. Bless her.”  
“God save the queen.”

As Tom sat back down Quincey and the group stared in shock as all the old men did was just raised their glasses and said that tiredly. Quincey turned back to Tom, who gave a “See?” look.

Tom replied, “That’s about as patriotic as it gets around here.”

Quincey counter, “But you’re Tom Sawyer Quartermain, the son of Allan Quartermain. Stories of both yours and your father’s exploits have thrilled English boys for decades.”

‘And girls as well,’ Quincey thought seeing a bit of a red scarf out of the corner of his eyes.

“That I know,” Tom growled, “and Nigel has done a grand job reminding me.”

Tom paused looking away with a sigh continued, “But with each past exploit, he and I lost friends— white men and black— and much more.”

He looked back to Sanderson with a exhausted gaze, “And I’m not the boy I once was. Nor was my father.”

Quincey sat back not knowing what to say or do. The empire needs a Quartermain, but both have given up on the thrill of adventure.

“The gentleman over there,” the footman answered.

Four men walked over to Nigel while he was mid conversation.

“Mr. Quartermain.”

“Uh, yes, indeed, sir.”

Tom brown eyes glanced over to Nigel.

Bang!

By the time the four men turned, Tom was already standing, a revolver aimed, another bang and one of the four men were

“Wrong Quartermain!” Stated Tom.

“That’s him!!” Shouted one of the men.

-one fight later resulting in a man being impaired on a rhino’s horn-

“Rule Britannia,” Tom said turning back to asked, “Wasn’t there another one of these buggers?”

“Mr. Quartermain!!” The footman pointed to the last one running away. Tom nodded.

“Bruce, Matilda.”

Bruce gave Tom a hunting rifle that his father once used. Tom quickly walked outside getting ready to catch him. Not know something was ticking inside.

As Tom aim his gun, Quincey was right behind saying, “But... he’s so far away.”

Bang! Thud!!

While through the new commotion Tom left an impressed Quincey on the front porch. As two men brought the, now, attacker back Quincey quickly ask, “Did you mean to just wound him?”

“Obviously,” Tom answered before running and exclaiming, “stop him!! I need information!!”

The attacker just glared at him before falling unto his back.

“Bloody poison,” Tom cursed starring at a corpse now.

Quincey removed his graze from the corpse to state, “You may have no love for the empire, but I knew you love Africa. A war in Europe will spread to its colonies.”

A loud boom could be heard then everyone scrabbling to get water in order to put out the, now on fire, hotel out.

Quincey said, “It appears the war has arrived.”

“Very well, Harker.” Tom answered back in a heartbroken voice, “I’m in.”

Quincey look back at him with sad yet understanding look and said, “Excellent. Pack for an English summer.”

While everyone were running around, Tom looked to his left at the grave yard at two headstone with the name Quatermain on both.

‘Harry,’ Tom thought, ‘father.’

In the heat of the moment both Tom and Quincey forgot the other Quartermain. The group stare at Tom and Quincey all with their own version of horror.


	3. League of what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom, along with some unwanted guests, finally made it to London’s aid. There he meets…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom is not in a good mood.

-Location: London, England. Date: July 1910-

Tom stated out the window of the carriage then to even look at the five passengers with him. As he watch London pass by, the other Quartermain try to talk with him. Tom only gave him a side glare before turning his attention back out the window. When they finally reached the museum, Tom got out before the others could turn their heads. Tom had turned to the driver to tell him to drive the other five somewhere else.

“You made good time getting here,” Quincey stated. Tom’s attention went from the streets of London to his companion.

With pale skin, brown hair brushed back, and green, intelligence, but stern eyes. There was no doubt that this is Mina Murray’s son.

“Not as fast as your mother,” Tom nodded over to the brunette woman, the other Quartermain, and the three gentleman now getting out of the carriage. Quincey merely glanced over then said aloud, “This should be interesting.”

The group entered the museum together. Just as a man round the corner.

“Mr. Harker,” the man began, “I see you got Mr. Quarter-“

The man’s widen like dinner plates at five people behind the two male.

“Mr Reed,” Quincey called out, bringing Reed’s attention back to him, “can you tell M, I’m back with the white hunter’s son?”

Reed turned away before snarling under his breath, “Don’t why we need two hunters when he already have you here?”

“Two hunters?” Tom asked turned to Quincey, who simply rolled his eyes at Reed’s childish behavior. “You didn’t tell me you were a hunter as well.”

“My parents and I used to hunt…” Quincey began before glancing over to his mother, both had a moment of silence between them, but Mina had a fear in her eyes and Quincey quickly looked away with guilt in his. “Unusual creatures. I doubt that any of you have heard about them.”

Tom and the other four men, indeed, had heard the stories of an… odd man. Death had followed him from England, to France, to who knows where, all in a year before Mina formed the league. There were stories of Quincey, that he was/is an amazing hunter just like his mother was. Tom still wonder what type of man or creature would get either one got into that type of business.

“I think our parents teammates wonder the same,” Quincey stated paused halfway up the steps. He turned back to him with a curious smile and continued, “Except for one, maybe two.”

“I beg your pardon?” Tom asked stunned. When Quincey nodded behind him, he understood immediately before he even turned around.

Tom look from Captain Nemo, to Griffin, both held the same questioning gaze, to Dr. Jekyll, who had a dazed look, like a memory being replayed, of Hyde’s from the look of it, to finally land on his father. Who looked away from Tom in shame. Tom look back to Quincey for some answers.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The group turned to a chubby, but old, man at the top of the stairs hold a cigar tin in one hand and files in the other. Tom was starting to get more annoyed by all of this.

“I don’t like theatrics,” Tom said causing Quincey to sigh softly, and the old league to stare at him.

“After Africa’s velds,” the man observe, “London’s weather isn’t helping your mood, I see.”

“Identify yourself,” Tom demand noticing only Quincey continuing up the stairs, he followed behind. 

The man smiled, “I’m known by many names, Mr. Quartermain. My underlings call me ‘Sir.’ My superiors call me ‘M.’”

“M?” Tom asked finally on the top step. Quincey was looking away as if something caught his attention. Tom noticed the museum had strange and unusual things on display around him.

“Just M,” M concluded, “I must say, the delight is mine, meeting so notable a recruit to this newest generation of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.”

“League of what?” Tom asked being caught off guard by the museum. The old league behind him froze at that.

“There have been other times when a danger upon the world required the services of…” M went on after noticing Mina and the others, “singular individuals.”

“How very curious,” Tom muttered. Noticing Quincey stepping back slightly, his gaze fell onto an Indian woman about Quincey age, dressed as Captain Nemo was, walking towards them from a hallway. Her gaze fell from M, to the old league, finally to Quincey and Tom.

M stated, “This museum is full of the curious. Quincey Harker, Tom Quartermain, Captain Nemo.”

“I know of Harker and Quartermain,” Captain Nemo stated her gaze fixed on them.

“And we know of you, Captain.” Quincey restated back.

Tom said, “Rumor has it that you’re a pirate.”

Quincey shot him a death glare as the others stared at him in shock.

“I’d prefer a less provocative title,” the female Captain Nemo said rather coldly.

“Oh, I’m sure you would.” Tom muttered mocking back.

“Quartermain...” Quincey warned.

After opening a door to a large room with files on the table and a lone folded black trench coat; M, while motioning for the others, finally spoke back up, “Gentlemen and Captain, please. Nations are striking at nations. Every attack marked by the use of highly advanced weaponry. They’ve discovered these attacks are all the work of one man who calls himself the Fantom.”

“Very operatic,” Quincey hummed, “and what’s in for him?”

“Profit. Those machines are his creations,” M answered, “the work of scientists he holds imprisoned. His attacks have every nation clamoring for the very weapons that assailed them.”

“Then it’s a race for arms,” Tom suggested looking over the files on the table.

“And millions will perish,” both Captain Nemo finished that thought glancing at the other. Both wondering why the other was there. Mina looked over at Quincey, while Griffin and Dr. Jekyll process this.

“There’s one last chance to avert war,” M explain, “the leaders of Europe are to meet secretly in Venice.”

“And you believe that this Fantom will attack that conference?” Tom asked looking up from one of the files. Allan stood next to him with a worried glance at M.

“If he can find it,” M said, “we need a team to get to Venice and stop him. This team will consist of six members. You have four days.”

Tom stared in disbelief, “Four days to get to Venice? It’s impossible!”

“Let me worry about that.”

Tom glanced at the female Captain Nemo as did the others. She gave a knowing smirk back at the other Captain who smiled back, oddly, proud.

“Well now, extraordinary gentlemen indeed,” Tom chuckled, “though why do you need me when you already have Mr. Harker?”

Before Quincey could speak, M explained, “Mr. Murray has retired his hunting days ever since his father disowned him.”

Quincey glanced over shocked as did the others. M looked from Quincey to Mina, before looking back at Tom and stating, “But he will be joining as both a hunter and your team chemist.”

“Oh, chemist, eh? Do we going to blow something up then?”

All eyes landed on Griffin then to around the room. Only M casually looked at the trench coat. Griffin’s graze landed on it as well.

‘He didn’t,’ he thought looking back at M.

Tom and Allan shared a confused look. Tom muttered, “My eyesight must be worse than I thought.”

A floating file behind him answered, “No. Your eyesight’s fine.”

As it smack down next to Tom he exclaimed before rising from his seat and growled out, “No games, M.”

M also got up and elaborated, “Sometime ago, a talented, albeit misguided man of science, discovered the means to become invisible.”

“Misguided?” Griffin huffed glaring at M.

“Yes. I recall the tale,” Tom said before turning to Griffin and asking, “but didn’t you die?”

Bodiless voice answered, “Well, back then he did, but his process didn’t.”

‘Of course he did,’ Griffin thought, ‘but why does is his voice sound different?’

“You see, I stole it, and here I stand for all to see.”

“Is this some parlor game?” Tom demanded before being pushed followed with a, “Believe it.”

Tom quickly pushed back whatever it was into a bookcase. The voice chuckled, “Easy now, Tom.”

By now both Captains stood by the others side, Allan was behind Tom, Quincey stood in front of Mina, and Dr. Jekyll could look back the, now, messed up bookcase to shocked Griffin.

“I’m feeling a bit of a draft in my nether regions.” The voice continued Tom followed the sound to the folded trench coat, “And I must say, it’s quite refreshing.”

The, now, floating trench coat stated, “Allow me to introduce myself.”

‘This should be good,’ Griffin thought.

The coat turned around to present itself, “Rodney Skinner, gentleman thief.”

Griffin went stiff while looking at the coat, and only Dr. Jekyll noticed this. The others looked on in amazement.

“Now,” Rodney explained grabbing a can from his pocket, “I thought invisibility would be a boom to my work.”

He then, started smearing white makeup paint onto his face, continued, “Well, you can imagine, it was my undoing. Once you’re invisible, it’s bloody hard to turn back.”

“We finally caught him,” M sighed in relief.

“And they’ll provide an antidote—“ Rodney stated, “well, that’s if I’m a good boy.”

“And are you a good boy?” Tom ask, curious about this while Allan tried to get in between his son and the gentleman thief.

“I guess you’ll find out,” Rodney answered back, “won’t you?”

‘No he will not!’ Allan thought. He noticed Griffin was almost the same color as the paint on Rodney. He, then, realized that from behind Griffin’s dark sunglasses, his eyes were starring in denial at the new invisible man. But why? Yet another question floating around in Allan’s mind.

Why Tom? Why Nemo’s daughter? Why was it the League? Why now?

Allan took his gaze from the new invisible man to Mina’s son. He remembered something before the invisible man was revealed, figuratively speaking, even before the captain’s daughter came out to the light.

“Why were would your father disowned you?”

Allan froze as everyone, except Quincey and M, stared at him. He didn’t mean to say it out loud. He didn’t mean to-

“Oh I got sick on a hunting trip.”

Attention went back to Quincey, who held a sad smiled, continued. “So did my father, but he was…more unwell then we thought. I was…asked to finish the hunt.”

“I was able to finish it,” Quincey add, “but now I was sick and badly injured. By the time I came back… he was gone and I was disowned. Disowned and left for dead.”

“How old were you?” Mina asked looking worryingly at her son.

He glanced at his mother before looking at the new Captain Nemo and asking, “How old were you twelve years ago?”

“I was three,” she responded confused. “Why?”

“So was I,” Quincey stated then doing the math in his head. “If I remember it was almost a year since you, mother, joined the league…so four. I was four.”

M looked sadly at the boy as the rest of the people looked onto Quincey in shock, horror, and sorrow. More importantly his mother. She wanted to hold her son close to her. Poor woman, she thought he was safe. She thought he be fine. Her eyes landed on M with a fury he, himself, feared, yet understood. His own mother held it, so did his father.

A parent’s protective nature was always strong, threw in the extraordinary aspect and he knew that non of them would refuse to stand aside now, especially…

“Mr. Murray was brought to me two years after that,” M clarified, “by a person, who is, also one of the last members of the new league. I hope he’ll offer his help, when seeing Quincey there.”

Quincey raised an eyebrow slightly. Him? They left him alone for nine years. It’s unlikely, but what else can he do?

“Speaking of that,” M said, “you have two members left and four days to Venice. Best get a move on.”

“Kicking us out already?” Ask Rodney with painted on smirk, “a moment ago it was Shirley’s and giggles.”

“Mr. Skinner behave.” Quincey muttered following the invisible man and the new captain out. Tom behind Quincey, and the old league behind Tom.

“Do you think… it’s wise for this to happen?” Reed ask walking into the room, “Also why me? Why not Bond?”

“Murray and her men will try to make the new league reconsider. I slightly wish I could be there.” M answered. “As for Bond, the old one disbanded due to poor handled lies and trying to keep secret from me, let alone my own brother and his doctor friend, it’s best to keep him in the dark.”

Reed nodded before asking again, “Where do you slightly wish to be?”

M replied with a chuckle, “To be there when our new league stubbornness to Miss Murray’s group request.”


End file.
